Read The Duchess and the Dragon Online
Authors: Jamie Carie
The Duchess and the Dragon (18 page)
THE NEXT DAY Drake didn’t come to meeting. They had all silently agreed there was no longer any point to showing him their way. Serena rode in solemn silence with her sisters, her still-innocent sisters, who looked at her with big eyes, knowing some great heaviness weighed on their family but not understanding what caused it.
Serena donned her Sunday dress thinking this might be the last time she did. She smoothed down the gray skirt, tying the ribbons at her breast, pulling the cap down over her hair. She climbed into the gray wagon, faltering in her steps as her father looked gravely into her eyes, as her mother turned away to hide a face distressed. They had rode to the church, slower than usual it seemed, every blade of grass more green in the churchyard, every weathered board of the church building watching her, so real it hurt just looking at it. This would be one of those memories that would never fade.
Serena sat in her usual place on the hard bench, waiting, panting almost, in her apprehension that the painting hadn’t been real, that God would speak to her and stop her from this thing she’d set her heart and mind to do. The meeting started as usual, all with closed eyes and opened hearts. Serena clenched her eyes tightly, her head tilting back, her throat exposed, wanting Him to stop her and yet, with a pounding heart so loud they must hear it, hoping He wouldn’t. The minutes ticked by and slowly, she felt the discipline of letting her mind and emotions empty, of letting His presence replace the fear. A deep, all-encompassing peace filled her and she smiled.
I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.
The thought shattered her, bringing quick tears to her closed eyes. It was the answer underneath all the questions. As sure as the sun in her painting had come to her. As sure as her love for Drake. This was her choice. A choice she would have to live with and all its consequences, but He would not leave her alone in the wake of life’s decisions.
As she sat there pooling in the comfort of it, a voice spoke out. It took her a moment to realize it was one of the Friends and not her own mind.
“Dark is the path that leads to the understanding of good and evil. Take heed against it! Take heed against it!”
The voice rang out and echoed in the quiet of the place, but Serena could feel the heads lift, listening and nodding at the rebuke, taking heed. A darkness came over her. Had she heard wrong? Was it her own wicked heart telling her what she so desperately wanted to hear? Doubt engulfed her, her head bowed deeply until her chin rested on her chest. Which to believe? What should she believe? Her heart began to pound with fear and dread.
She saw her painting against the blackness of her closed eyes, saw the yellows stand out, becoming more and more alive, then suddenly it all faded.
All that was left was Christopher’s face . . . and the brightness of his hair.
DRAKE WAS ON a mission.
Earlier in the week, while in a local shop buying supplies for Josiah’s business, he’d heard the name he’d been subconsciously listening for wherever he went.
“Joseph Linney! That you, dearie?” A big man near him turned, his face breaking out into a grinning leer as he swung the woman into an embrace. She reminded Drake of the women found in the stews of London, gaudily dressed, with her bosom hanging mostly out of a sagging neckline.
Linney buried his scraggly beard into her neck, her giggling all the while. The shopkeeper cleared his throat in disapproval, causing the woman to playfully push Linney away, though still wearing a pleased smile. Linney ignored the owner and leaned forward to whisper something into her ear. She gave a gasp of delighted surprise and a quick nod.
Probably told her of his new, ill-gotten wealth,
Drake thought, disgusted. He watched the pair from under the brim of his black hat, keeping them in sight as they paid for their purchases, then walked arm in arm out of the shop. Drake would have liked nothing better than to confront the man then and there, but he knew better than to be so foolish. Instead, he followed them.
Drake thought, disgusted. He watched the pair from under the brim of his black hat, keeping them in sight as they paid for their purchases, then walked arm in arm out of the shop. Drake would have liked nothing better than to confront the man then and there, but he knew better than to be so foolish. Instead, he followed them.
It hadn’t been difficult. Linney was more interested in the plump woman on his arm than in any seeming danger. They’d gone to a small house, a shack really, on a street Drake had never seen. It would seem that even in a William Penn town, poverty and the stench of poverty had found a place.
Drake watched, hidden by the corner of a building, while they entered. He needed to know if it was Linney’s house or the woman’s but was loath to wait until they finished their unsavory business. Josiah expected Drake back soon.
But luck smiled upon him, as a young lad of about ten years ran by. Drake called out to him, smiling. “Boy, a moment of your time.”
The child looked startled and a little afraid.
Drake held out a silver coin, watching his face turn excited but still wary. He walked a little closer. “Yes, sir?”
“Who lives in that house?” Drake pointed to the house in question.
The boy followed the direction of Drake’s arm and then scowled. “That’s Mr. Linney, sir.”
Drake had to wonder what atrocity Mr. Linney had done to deserve such a sullen tone in the boy’s voice. “You’re sure, then?”
“Oh yes, I’m sure. Been there for months.” He spit to one side and then locked his gaze on the shimmering coin in the middle of Drake’s palm.
Drake tossed it to him. “Thank you, boy. There might be other rewards of the same if you will keep an eye on the man. Just watch where he goes and what he does, you see?”
The boy nodded, squeezing the coin as though it might drop and be eaten by the dogs that roamed the street before he could get it back into his hand. He smiled up at Drake. “Thank you, sir, I will. But where will I find you to report his doings?”
“I’ll find you. What’s your name, lad?”
“Jimmy Bowman, sir. Glad to be of service.” He grinned and bowed, a cheeky action that had Drake smiling back. “Have a care, then.” Waving, Drake turned to leave.
All that day and into the next, he considered his course of action. Every day that went by would mean more of the money spent. With that surety dogging him, he’d managed to track down Daniel for reinforcements and to identify the man as the same Joseph Linney who was the slave driver.
Daniel was only too eager to help.
Now, with Serena and her family safely off to meeting, he could finish this business. Drake explained his plan to Daniel as they walked. “He should still be abed, giving us the element of surprise. Two against one, it shouldn’t be difficult.”
Daniel lifted the corner of his shirt revealing a black pistol. He winked at Drake with a grin. “Just in case.”
Drake shook his head slightly. “Don’t use it unless absolutely necessary. I just want my money back, not the man’s death on my conscience.”
Daniel gave him a sharp look, understanding lighting his eyes, he sighed. “Enough of them already, eh? I know, friend. I too, was in the army.”
Drake nodded once, short and final. He let the subject drop. As they neared the street they slowed, edging closer to the buildings looking out at the quiet lane. It was still early for most of the street’s inhabitants to be up and about, which was exactly as Drake had hoped. “Let’s go.”
The two crossed the mucky road, the smells of beef fat and waste disposed feet from their doorways made the street a sloth of stench. The door was a simple clapboard type that would be easy to crash through, but Drake preferred stealth.
He indicated the need for silence to Daniel, who nodded, ready to apply his shoulder to the wood. Drake reached out and tried the latch. Sure enough, it was unlocked. The door creaked as Drake eased it open. He and Daniel stood still and listened. No sound.
They could see there was another room at the back of the house. They picked their way across the main room to what Drake hoped was the bedchamber. That door was open a crack, giving view to the corner of a bed, a big foot sticking out from beneath the covers.
Drake smiled. “On three. One . . . two . . . three!”
They burst into the room, Daniel toward the foot of the bed, Drake at the head. The man didn’t wake. Daniel nodded at the snoring form. “That’d be him all right. I’d recognize that face anywhere.”
Daniel hadn’t bothered to whisper, and Drake smiled as Linney frowned and moved in his sleep.
Daniel pointed. “Drake, on the bureau . . . is that your box? I remember seeing him take it out of your trunk; he was holding it like it was a newborn babe, he was.”
Drake turned, strode over to the shabby furniture, and took up the elegant wooden box, so out of place in this room. He opened it, his heart sinking. Daniel left the foot of the bed and came over, peering around Drake’s shoulder. “Anything left?”
Drake was shaking his head, about to reply that there was very little, when a creak came from the bed. Both men turned to find the huge Linney standing there naked, a wicked knife clutched in a meaty hand—and coming straight at them.
Chapter Thirteen
Drake turned, the wooden box still clasped in one hand as the knife slashed toward his chest. He dodged, shocked to feel the blade catch his shoulder, the pain immediate and searing. He threw down the box, coins scattering like hailstones across the wood floor.
Daniel had recovered and dove toward the man, fisting him in the stomach. Linney’s white, fat belly quivered as he let loose a roar of rage and a flow of curse words. He rounded on Daniel, and his eyes widened. “You!”
Drake took full advantage of the slave driver’s momentary distraction, kicking out toward the man’s knee, and was rewarded by hearing it snap. With a roar of pain and rage, Linney faltered, looking at the two of them as though trying to decide whom to attack with his knife.
A succession of quick jabs to the ribs, and then Linney’s arm held and twisted, and Drake had the man disarmed, the knife skittering across the floor. Daniel proceeded to pound the man with a fist into his face and then another quick jab to his shoulder, spinning him toward Drake. Drake picked up with another punch in the huge man’s face, snapping his neck back, but only momentarily.
They bounced him back and forth until they were all breathing hard and sweating. Finally Linney slipped on his stolen loot and fell to lie at Drake’s feet. Drake placed a foot on the man’s middle, while Daniel casually pulled out the pistol and trained it to his chest.
“Where is my money?” Drake bit out the words, pushing against the man’s stomach, trying not to look at his body.
“I ain’t got your money. Who are you, anyway?”
Daniel laughed at him. “He’s an English lord, you fool. You’ve picked the wrong man to rob this time, Linney.”
Drake went along with the dramatics. “Is this all of it? Have you spent it?”
Linney looked afraid for the first time since awakening. “I didn’t know! I thought it was the captain’s. I swear I did. Don’t have me hanged for it, I beg you.”
Drake backed away. “Put on some pants. Then collect every coin and return them to the box. Anything you’ve bought with it, too. Gather it up and let us have an accounting of your ill-gotten gains.”
Linney scrambled to obey, eyeing the gun still held on him, shrugging into ill-fitting pants, then running about the room, scooping up coins and finding a few more on the bedside table. It was a pitiful amount.
“I can’t gather up what I’ve spent it on,” he admitted to Drake, unable to look Drake in the eye, holding out the box.
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